The Potioneer
by rinkiedink.66
Summary: Almost a decade after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione is ready to bury the hatchet and make amends with some of her old schoolmates. However, Ron is less than pleased when one of those people she wants to make amends with happens to be Draco Malfoy himself. More than that, Draco seems to have changed but whether that be for better or worse is unclear. (Dramione/Romione)
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note : Hey guys. This story is going to update every Tuesday and Thursday. It will be a one-shot, because most of my time is taken up by studying or working, and I don't have time to catch misspellings or grammar errors (plus, my eyes are awful so...). Anyways, hope you all enjoy._

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**Chapter 1**

"I can't believe this!" Hermione yelled slamming her newspaper down on the table.

Ron stopped munching on his breakfast and stared at her waiting for her to continue. "What?"

"'In an interview, Pansy Parkinson stated that Ms. Hermione Granger would not make a good fit as Minister of Magic as she was a very troubled and malicious soul during the time Pansy knew her at Hogwarts,'" Hermione read, "This is ridiculous!" She stood up and began to pace around the kitchen angrily.

"'Mione, nobody with half a brain is going to believe any of that hogwash. Pansy is just-" Ron started.

She turned on her heels. "No! No, that's the point!" she yelled getting into Ron's face though she looked far less angry, "She's acting childish. She can't just… move on with her life. She has to go and spread rumours and continue living out her days as though we were still immature children who didn't like each other in Hogwarts."

In confusion, Ron's brows furrowed. "You-... you don't… not like her?"

"I don't see a point in holding some stupid grudge over something that happened years ago," she grumbled before folding her arms and sinking back into her chair.

Slowly, Ron offered her one of the muffins from her plate.

She smiled weakly at him before accepting the muffin.

"I think you're just letting the stress get to you," he confided, "We hate Pansy. Pansy was awful. You shouldn't be moving on like this else you'll start forgiving every low life Slytherin including Malfoy."

Hermione watched Ron for a moment before her eyes fell to the floor, and she took a bite out of the muffin.

"Well, hey now!" he yelled, "Don't tell me you've forgiven that bloke. Hermione, have you forgotten everything he did to you… and- and me… and Harry!"

"No, of course, I haven't, Ronald," she replied, "But… it was almost a full decade ago. You don't think that maybe we should bury the hatchet-"

"No, I don't! I think I should take the hatchet and see if I can manage a few blows to his head!"

Crookshanks began to rub his head against her leg, and Hermione stroked his fur not wanting to reply to Ron.

"C'mon, Hermione. You can't tell me that I'm wrong," Ron argued.

"You don't think you're being just a little prejudice?" she asked.

"Not at all! He was a stuck-up, arrogant pureblood who thought he could get away with everything!"

"Ronald, people do change. I mean… Professor Snape wasn't as bad as we first thought. You remember what Harry said about him-"

"I remember and what's more, I don't care. It doesn't excuse anything Snape did. He still treated Neville like the scum of the earth and didn't even care when Malfoy hit you with that curse, and your teeth grew."

Hermione lightly touched her mouth. Although she wanted to think of Snape in a kinder light, she knew Ron was right. However, it was in her nature to believe that people could change if they truly wanted to.

"Maybe, Snape was not an ideal example. But, Ron, people change. You changed." she pointed out.

At her words, he seemed slightly taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh I don't know. I recall someone not having the courage to ask me out on a simple date for several years," she retorted.

His ears turned red. "I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.

"The Yule Ball? Viktor Krum? Lavender-" Hermione started before Ron put both of his large hands over her mouth.

"Alright, alright. I get it. So maybe…" he began obviously struggling, "... maybe people can kind of change."

She smiled behind his hands.

"But" he yelled, "Slytherins are not capable of change."

Sighing, Hermione glared at Ron and removed his hands from her mouth. "Really?"

"Yes," he affirmed.

"Because I saw Blaise Zabini the other day in Diagon Alley. You know? The Slytherin who hated Muggleborns and 'blood traitors?' We had a lovely conversation."

"About what?"

"Well, we talked about our personal lives. He's working at Flourish and Blotts now. He's married to a Muggleborn witch too. He mostly wanted to apologize for his behavior back in our school years."

"You're making all that up, Hermione Granger," Ron said as he stood up and picked up his now empty plate.

She groaned and slammed her open palms on the table scaring poor Pigwidgeon. "Ronald, why do you have to be so stubborn?"

Although he attempted to glare back, he had stuffed another muffin in his mouth and looked quite ridiculous. He tried to say something, but it was muffled by his full mouth.

"Swallow, Ron," Hermione commanded trying to refrain from smiling.

After swallowing, he uttered only one word, "Because."

"That's no excuse!" she hollered.

"'Mione, I really don't have time for this. I have work soon. We both do. Can't we just talk about this after?"

While it could not have been more than a few moments, she felt like she was staring at him for an eternity. "Alright, fine. But I expect you to be more open-minded when we do."

Ron opened his mouth before shutting it and looking a little upset. However, he nodded. "I'll try," he answered.

He would not. Knowing him, Hermione could imagine that he would claim to never have made any such promise when they eventually did talk about it later that night.

"I'm going to brush my teeth," he muttered before pressing a kiss against her temple.

Smiling lightly, she watched him leave the room before her gaze returned to her newspaper. Slowly, Hermione took it back in her hands and opened it in search of some more appealing news. To her dismay, there was nothing quite so interesting or happy. Most stories revolved around some werewolf rampages or some poor decisions made on behalf of the ministry.

At the moment, Hermione was not entirely sure whether she was up for the Minister position because of her ability or because the ministry's recent failures and misdemeanors would fall on her shoulders. She could only hope that she was not merely a scapegoat.

Beginning to set down the paper, an ad suddenly caught her eye.

On the ad was a picture of a potion bottle. The contents sloshed back and forth as the picture danced on the paper.

'Malfoy Manor seeking skilled potioneer. Pay negotiable. Send letter by owl for further information.'

The Malfoy's were looking for a potioneer.

It was quite puzzling. She wondered why the Malfoy's would have a need for a potioneer to begin with. Another question was what they might ask of a potioneer. They may very well ask for intricate, deadly potions.

She stopped herself. That was her own prejudice speaking.

Hermione did not like the Malfoy's especially considering that Narcissa's sister, Bellatrix, had tortured her violently in the manor or that Draco had bullied her relentlessly for years. However, she had just made a speech to Ron about forgiveness and putting aside past grudges. She was not about to be a hypocrite.

Taking out her wand, she cast a spell and cut the ad out tucking it neatly in her pocket. She had time on her hands and applying to be a potioneer might not be too bad. It would be especially exceptional if the Malfoy's had truly changed, and she could rub it in Ron's face that she had been right.

In the case that the Malfoy's had truly not changed, she could always just leave. She would even be willing to renounce her belief if they were not capable of apologizing or leading a new life.

Truly, she did not even know if she would receive the job, but she was willing to apply at the very least. If she did not get the position, she could always conquer her fear another way and walk directly to the doorstep of the manor and make them apologize.

That would not actually be change though. She would just be forcing their hands.

Her mind was on the ad throughout the day though.

Ministry work was simple enough and when she had finished it all and had nothing left to do, she pulled out a roll of parchment paper and took her quill.

After a long time of consideration, she decided she would start with a formal greeting.

'To whom it may concern,'

She would ask specifically what sort of potions she was expected to make and when a well as any other information they found important enough to share with her. She would also ask for a face-to-face interview if she got the job.

When she finished, she stared at her finished letter. All that was left was a signature, a name.

She could sign it as Hermione Granger, but the chance that they would write back might be slim. They might be more open if they did not know it was her just yet.

'A skilled potioneer'

It was the ideal way to finish.

Handing the letter to the ministry owl, she made eye contact with the bird. "Malfoy Manor," she said carefully.

The barn owl hooted in reply and was off.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note : Hey! I got nothing else to say or contribute so... enjoy the fic :)_

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**Chapter 2**

James cooed happily sitting in his high chair.

Hermione watched Ron as he swished and flicked his wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he yelled for the hundredth time.

The little crackers in James' bowl began to rise in the air again dancing around daintily. Watching the flying crackers, James clapped his hands excitedly.

"Ron, don't play with the baby's food," Ginny teased.

"Ha ha," Ron said dryly, "How much longer, Ginny?"

"Food!" the purple-haired Teddy yelled shaking his godfather's leg.

"Food will be ready soon," Harry replied, "You can't wait fifteen more minutes?"

"No. I've worked really hard today," Ron whined.

Harry snorted. "Oh, you poor thing. You have a job."

"We've all worked hard today, Ron," Ginny quipped though smiling as she watched her son.

Lost in thought, Hermione stared at Ron though her mind drifted to the letter wondering if she would get a reply. At the same time, she was planning on visiting a lot of Slytherins from her years at Hogwarts. It seemed like a nice thing to do. The Battle of Hogwarts was years ago and if there were still petty grudges being held against one another, she wanted to make amends for them.

"'Mione?" Ron called snapping her back to reality. He was staring at her confused as well as Ginny and Harry.

She looked around. "What?"

"We get you like Ron. You don't need to gaze into his pretty face for all eternity. I mean, c'mon, Hermione. There are children here," Harry teased.

"I'm sorry. I was- was just lost in thought," she apologized feeling herself begin to blush out of embarrassment.

Ron looked slightly concerned before a tired glare overtook his face. "This is about the Slytherins being good, isn't it?"

"What?" Ginny asked confused.

"Hermione thinks that Slytherins can actually be agreeable people who can put the past behind them," Ron explained.

"Really Ronald," Hermione groaned, "People can change. We were children then."

"Actually," Harry interrupted setting plates down on the table, "I'm with Ron on this one. Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin."

"Snape was a Slytherin," she snapped.

"Well-... w-..." he tried to come up with an argument but could find no words.

"Alright," Ron interrupted picking up his fork, "Let's say just for argument's sake that Snape is the single exception. Doesn't excuse all of the other Slytherins."

"Why are you suddenly fascinated with making friends with Slytherins?" Ginny asked sitting down next to James and pulling a seat out for Teddy.

"Because Pansy Parkinson was mean in the Prophet," Ron explained.

"No," Hermione scowled, "It's because I think that it's ridiculous that we still can't get along after almost an entire decade!"

"Slytherins for you," Harry replied stabbing his potato with a fork.

"Could you not!" she yelled slamming her palms on the table startling everyone, "People can change."

"No offense, Hermione, but I don't think Slytherins necessarily can," Ginny piped up, "You have to consider that Gryffindors are naturally brave, Ravenclaws are smart, Hufflepuffs are kind, and Slytherins are ambitious. They're willing to go to any length to get what they want."

Hermione groaned. "Don't do this to me, Ginny."

"I will admit that there are some people whose… ambitions didn't get in the way of them doing good things, but we can't just assume that we're gonna get along swimmingly with everybody if we put our mind to it," Harry explained.

"I saw Blaise Zabini in Diagon Alley, and we got along just swimmingly then," she interrupted.

"Zabini?" Ginny asked, "Are you sure?"

"Apparently, he works at Flourish and Blotts and is married to a Muggleborn as Hermione would like me to believe," Ron explained.

"I'm not lying, Ron," Hermione said becoming more and more flustered.

"She wants to go make amends with Malfoy too," Ron growled.

Suddenly, Harry began to choke on his pumpkin juice. In an attempt to help him, Ron began to pat him on the back to stop him from hacking and coughing.

"Malfoy?" Harry yelled wiping juice from his mouth.

Hermione began to go white. Although she was not wanting to keep secrets from Ron, she had not necessarily wanted him to know that she had sent that letter to the manor. She did not realize he apparently already knew.

"She was talking about it during breakfast about how she was going to forgive him or something like that," he grumbled eating his potato.

For some reason, she felt a wave of relief flow over her. She felt guilty for not saying anything to Ron, but she knew how the hot-headed man thought. He could very well do something incredibly regrettable if she did not ease him into the conversation.

"There's nothing absurd about that," she argued.

"... Hermione," Harry whispered.

"No! I'm not crazy about this," she yelled, "You know what? I don't want to talk about this. Just change the subject."

She folded her arms and leaned further back in her chair.

Everyone else was eating in awkward silence.

"Well, I have another subject," Ginny piped up.

Harry looked up at her and smiled before turning his attention to the rest of the group.

"What?" Hermione asked looking between the two.

"We're having another baby!" Ginny announced.

Squealing, Hermione's smile returned, and she tightly embraced Ginny. "Congratulations."

James began to fuss, and Harry pulled him out of the high chair and held him close.

"No!" Teddy yelled as his hair and eyebrows turned red.

"Two weren't enough?" Ron asked.

"Ronald," Hermione hissed.

"I begged Ginny, but she wants to beat her mum's record," Harry teased.

"Not that many, but… I think three or four would be nice," Ginny explained tickling James' tummy. James giggled and squirmed in Harry's arms. Although Teddy was still grumpy, his hair reverted to purple as Ginny pulled him into her lap.

After finishing their dinner, Ginny left for the kitchen to bring out some Cauldron Cakes when a knock came at the window. Although James was distractedly staring at Arnold, and Teddy was playing in the living room on his toy broom, the adults turned their heads in the direction of the noise.

At the window was the barn owl from the ministry that Hermione had sent off with her letter to Malfoy Manor.

"You two got a new owl?" Ron asked.

"No... " Harry started slowly, "I mean, we have owls, but that isn't one of ours-"

"It's one of the ministry owls," Hermione interrupted, "I didn't think it would come all this way, however."

She stood up and opened the window. In its mouth, the bird was holding a letter.

Hesitantly, she took the letter and briefly stared at it before opening her handbag and dropping it inside.

"What's the letter about?" Ron asked.

"Ministry business," she lied as she shut the window and sat back down at the table, "I didn't think it was too important, but the bird apparently thought different."

She continued to stare at the window as the bird stared back at you before it took flight and left.

Hours later, she was lying in bed thinking of what the contents of the letter might possibly be. She wondered if she had received notice so quickly because the ministry had intercepted it. As far as she knew, the ministry did not necessarily care what she used the owls for but maybe there was some unsaid rule that the owls should not be used for personal use.

As quietly as she could, she slipped out of bed without disturbing Ron. Even if she had made some noise, he probably would not have heard it through his loud snoring.

She moved to the kitchen and found her handbag before opening it and pulling out the letter.

Slowly, she removed the letter from its envelope and read its contents.

_'Dear skilled potioneer,_

_I am pleased to have received your letter. Sadly, I must inform you that I will not be able to answer many of your questions as I do not know exactly who you are. I hope you understand why as you know who I am, but I am unsure whether you are a writer for the Prophet, like Rita Skeeter, or actually are a potioneer as you claim.'_

Shaking her head, Hermione snorted as she read the name Rita Skeeter. Barely anyone believed anything she wrote any longer. She was on her last leg and all of her stories were hogwash anyway.

_'However, I was delighted to read that you wanted a face-to-face interview - unless, of course, you're Rita trying to get a picture, but I'm rather sure that Rita does not use simple owls. Last I checked, she sent mail by ostrich and emu. If you truly are a skilled potioneer, I would be very happy to meet with you at The White Wyvern this coming Friday at seven in the evening. I can answer all of the questions from your letter as well as any others that have come to mind. Because I do not enjoy being seen in public, I would much appreciate if you would go to the bar and ask for me as I will be hidden from view._

_Hopefully, we will see each other this Friday and be able to work out an agreement._

_Sincerely,_

_Who it concerns'_

Hermione leaned a little further back in her seat

She knew exactly what she would be doing this Friday at seven.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note : Hey! I moved my note to the bottom this time. Didn't want to spoil anything but did want to say some stuff. Anyways, enjoy._

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**Chapter 3**

On Friday, work ended, and Hermione made her way to Knockturn Alley. She felt guilt having lied to Ron and telling him that she was staying late at work, but she did not want him worrying or making some big fuss and stomping down to The White Wyvern to pick a fight.

She entered the old pub and looked at the dark hooded witches and wizards. Keeping her head low, she tried not to make eye contact with any of them. She was rather positive that most of these patrons had been locked away in Azkaban or were currently being watched closely by the ministry.

Approaching the bar, Hermione tried to make eye contact with the bartender who scowled at the sight of her. However, she was not intimidated in the slightest. "I'm looking for a Malfoy," she explained.

The bartender tilted his head to his left which happened to be her right. She turned and saw a robed wizard whom she imagined must be Draco sitting in a booth in the far corner.

Seeing him sitting at that booth, she froze. It had seemed easier to forgive or get along with him in theory but now, she was actually unsure if she could go through with it.

For years, he had bullied her, called her 'Mudblood,' made her feel like she was undeserving of Hogwarts or being a witch. She wondered if she really could go through with this.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione walked over to the booth and sat opposite Draco.

Slowly, he looked up at her, and his grey eyes widened. "Granger?" he asked obviously caught off-guard.

"Draco," she said politely offering him her hand.

His eyes moved to her hand, to her, to her hand again, and back to her. "What do you want?"

Surprisingly, his voice was not cold. It was more surprised or shaken.

"I'm a skilled potioneer," Hermione explained.

His eyes widened even more which she found curious as his eyes were already quite large. "You-... you're the potioneer?"

"I am-"

"Why would you write for the- you're up for the position of Minister- you hate me- we hate each other," Draco rambled trying to understand what was going on.

"We don't… no. We don't hate each other," Hermione grumbled, "Look. We didn't get along in school… at all. But I don't think that means we can't get along now… right?"

He blinked multiple times. "... what?"

She sighed before putting her head in her hands. "I wanted to prove that maybe we could actually get along and look past our childhood and the things we did at Hogwarts."

Draco furrowed his brows in confusion. "I don't know why you'd want to get along with me. You know, us Malfoy's have a pretty bad reputation these days."

"Well, you've yet to call me 'Mudblood' so you can't be that bad," she mumbled.

He glared at the table. "Why would you write for the position?"

"... I wanted to make amends. It seemed like the easiest way to get back in touch with you," she explained.

"You wanted to make amends-" he started in disbelief, "I'm talking to the future Minister of Magic, and she wants to make amends with me."

Blushing, Hermione's eyes darted to the dirty table. Although she was up for the position of Minister, nothing was yet to be set in stone. However, it seemed that everyone else in the wizarding world knew she was going to get it.

"I'm- I'm sorry for how I treated you back at Hogwarts," he apologized obviously uncomfortable, "It was… wrong of me to say the least."

She was surprised. While she had secretly wanted an apology, she had not expected one quite so soon.

"Oh… well, I forgive you," she replied with a soft smile.

He seemed quite different. Draco had always been rather slender, but he now appeared more gaunt. Although he could not have been any older than twenty-four, the bags under his eyes and lines scrawled across his face made him look to be well in his mid-50s. His hair had thinned, and he looked completely exhausted.

In a strange way, he reminded her of Professor Lupin.

Draco returned her smile with an incredibly weak one though it did appear genuine.

"So, what sort of potions were you wanting?" Hermione prompted.

His now calm eyes widened, and he looked alarmed. "N-nothing illegal or dangerous, if that's what you're thinking."

She shook her head. "No, I wasn't," she assured him.

It was a lie. One of her initial worries was that it might be an illegal or highly restrictive potion. However, she could not really see this now docile Draco Malfoy every engaging in any such criminal acts.

"The potions I'm wanting are Draught of Peace, Calming Draught, Sleeping Draught, and…" he paused looking around the pub before lowering his voice, "... Wolfsbane Potion."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock.

Wolfsbane potion.

The potion that eased the symptoms of lycanthropy and helped prevent a werewolf from losing their mind during their transformation.

"You're a-" she started before Draco put his hands over her mouth.

"Don't. Say. It," he hissed. He looked terrified with wide, scared eyes.

She could now see slim scars running across his face. Now, he only reminded her more of Remus Lupin.

"You can't speak a word of this to anyone," he begged.

Slowly, she pulled his hands away from her mouth but nodded. "I won't," Hermione promised.

Nodding, his hands moved back under the table presumably into his lap. "... you wanted to know when, didn't you? I will want one of each draught for each day of the week, and… one of the potion every full moon."

"I could probably have… twenty-one draughts ready by late tomorrow. That isn't so unrealistic. However, the soonest Wolfsbane Potion I can offer will be after the next full moon."

"That's quite alright," Draco said excitedly, "You can bring the draughts once a week and the potion once a month. Now, about pay. I'm willing to pay one galleon for each draught and twenty for every potion."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, and her mouth fell slightly agape. "Wh- twenty for-"

"If that isn't enough, I'm willing to go higher-"

"No, no!" she interrupted, "That is more than enough."

He smiled weakly before composing himself and clearing his throat. "Well then, would there be anything else you'd like to know?"

"Yes, actually. Where might I be bringing the draughts and potions?"

"I imagined the Malfoy Manor-... but if you'd prefer-!" he started.

"No, that's quite alright," she cut in.

It was not. The Manor was not a place that held fond memories but Hermione supposed if she left the draughts and potions on the doorstep or maybe did not pass the threshold, she might be fine.

"Wonderful," Draco said as he began to stand up with some difficulty. He looked incredibly weak.

As she stood up, she kept her hands at the ready in case she needed to catch him, but he did not sway and stood tall.

"Um- uh-... I'm very… thankful for your help and happy to work with you," he said curtly before extending his hand.

Hermione looked to his hand, him, and his hand again before smiling and shaking it. "I'm happy to work with you as well."

After finishing shaking each other's hands, they two stood there for a moment.

"... y'know," Draco started, "I was really hoping to find an experienced enough witch or wizard who could brew a Wolfsbane Potion… you truly are the brightest witch of… well all the ages."

Hermione grinned widely.

"So, I've been told."

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_Author's note: Okay. So, I wanted to do this fanfiction after I found this theory about Draco being a werewolf. If you haven't read it, just go to dracomalfoyisawerewolf (dumb document won't let me paste the entire link -_-)_. _Alright, so I found the theory, and I loved it immediately. I did more research later and found out that J.K. did technically debunk the theory, but I loved it so much, I thought I'd still use it. Besides, J.K. is already going wild making everybody in a 5-mile radius gay, so I thought I'd let the theory be as real as I wanted it to be.__ I hope you liked the story and have a good night :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note : Hey there. Notes at bottom again (don't know if I'll move it there permanently, but it's just there for now). Anyways, enjoy._

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**Chapter 4**

Ron sat at home angrily munching on his Licorice Wands. While he had originally planned on taking Hermione out for dinner, she had turned him down saying she had something more important to do.

He was upset, and he was not about to hide his upsetness. In his own mind, there was nothing that could be quite as important to do on a Friday for her to blow him off. Knowing Hermione, he assumed she went to Flourish and Blotts to buy books.

Silently chewing, he stared at Pigwidgeon who was staring back at him. "What?"

The owl cocked its head to the right.

Ron sighed and checked the time. It was almost eleven o'clock, and she had yet to return home. Although he was a little worried, he knew that Hermione could handle herself. She knew more spells than he and Harry did combined.

Feeling tired, he went to bed alone. He slept for several hours before hearing some noise.

"And powdered porcupine quills," he heard a voice whisper.

Ron's eyes shot open, and he stared at the ceiling above him before looking around the room.

A soft, silvery glow ebbed from the living room into the bedroom.

Slowly, Ron sat up and trudged out of the room peering into the living room. Hermione was sitting cross-legged on the floor hunched over a cauldron.

"'Mione?" he croaked staring at her bleary-eyed.

She turned around in surprise. Her bushy hair shrouded her face. "Ron?"

"What… what are you doing?" he asked rubbing at his tired eyes.

"I'm brewing a Draught of Peace," she explained as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"At… at four in the morning?" Ron yelled as he checked the time.

"Well, yes. I've already brewed a Calming Draught and a Sleeping Draught as well."

Besides her, he could see a carton holding over a dozen vials of the colors dark purple and blue. "'Mione, why on earth are you brewing all of those draughts?"

She hesitated for a few moments before shrugging. "I just felt compelled to."

He considered the draughts and slowly sat down next to her. "Are you doing well? I… I know you're anxious about being prime minister, but-"

"Oh? Oh, of course. I'm… I'm quite alright. Really. This is just for uh…"

As she talked, Ron's eyes drifted to a box of ingredients next to her. He could clearly make out Wolfsbane as well as Powdered Moonstone. "'Mione, what's going on?"

"I was just a little nervous-"

"The Wolfsbane and the Powdered Moonstone…" he mumbled, "Hermione, please tell me you aren't a werewolf!"

"Wh- no, I'm not-"

"Then, why the Wolfsbane?" Ron demanded as he took her face into his hands forcing her to make eye contact with him.

"I-"

"Don't even think about lying. You aren't any good at that with me," he said locking eyes with her as his brows furrowed.

Hermione sighed quietly. "I'm…" she started, "... I'm making this all for a werewolf."

Ron racked his brain trying to recall any werewolves they might know. "Who?"

"What does it matter who, Ron? It's a werewolf in need, and I'm trying to help," Hermione yelled becoming strangely defensive.

"What's with you getting all upset? I'm just asking if I know them," he grumbled.

"I don't think you do," she deflected returning to her cauldron.

"What's their name?" he probed.

She fell silent putting all of her attention into the Draught of Peace as she began to fill the vials.

"Hermione?"

"... Draco Malfoy," she mumbled.

Ron furrowed his brows. "Funny. Now, c'mon. Tell me."

"I did. It's Draco Malfoy," she explained turning to him.

"Wh- what?" Ron yelled standing up and backing away. His eyes widened in terror and horror. "Hermione, tell me you didn't."

"He was looking for a potioneer, and I decided it might be a nice way to reconnect and start over."

"Wait, wait, wait! So, not only are you helping out the worst person in the world second to only You-Know-Who, but he's also a werewolf?" he shrieked.

"Shh!" Hermione hissed putting her finger to her lips, "Could you not be so loud?"

"Have you lost your mind?" he whispered loudly.

"The man has changed, Ronald! He's in desperate need of help," she explained, "And you will not speak a word of him being a werewolf to anyone."

"Like bloody-" Ron started before she glared daggers at him. Her stare was so cold he was sure she might just petrify him.

"... I won't," he finished slowly, "but Hermione how can you even be sure he has changed at all."

"He's an entire mess," she confided, "He doesn't even look like the same person. If anything, he reminds me of Lupin."

"Yeah. Werewolf."

"No, it's not because he's a werewolf. He's like… old and worn. Lupin looked so old for his age, his clothes were a mess, he had scars running down his face, and always looked so tired. I see all of that on Draco."

"Oh. Now, we're on a first name basis with Malfoy," Ron grumbled.

"Ronald, grow up," Hermione commanded not bothering to hide her discontent.

"I just don't think you're being very careful. What if he hurts you? What if… what if he transforms or… or turns you?" he asked.

"You're just grasping at straws now," she mumbled before returning to the potion.

"'Mione! I'm trying to look out for you here," he argued sitting back down next to her.

Although she let out a long sigh, Hermione made eye contact with Ron and shook her head. "Will you bring me my handbag?"

Confused, Ron arched one of his eyebrows, however, he stood up to do as she asked. He found the handbag in the kitchen and brought it to her.

Immediately, she began to rummage through it before pulling out her wand and a galleon. She tapped the galleon once, and the gold color began to swirl. Although the color did not change, the galleon's surface continued to swirl in never-ending circles.

"What did you do?" Ron asked.

Instead of answering him, she pulled out another galleon and tapped it as well. It too began to swirl just as endlessly as the first.

"'Mione, you're ruining perfectly good galleons," he yelled.

"Can't you wait a single moment, Ron?" Hermione asked before handing him one of the galleons.

He looked it over, but it did not keep his attention for long. "I still don't get it."

"If anything does ever happen to me," Hermione explained as she tapped his galleon with her wand a second time, "you'll know."

The galleon she was holding in her own palm began to flash bright pink repeatedly.

"What…?" he drifted off.

"If I'm in danger, I can tap my galleon with my wand twice, and yours will start to flash. It will alert you if anything happens to be wrong. Alright?"

Although he was still upset, this eased his fear but only slightly. "Alright."

"Good," she replied. She tapped the galleon again, and his stopped flashing though it continued to swirl. Dropping her galleon and wand back into her handbag, Hermione set it aside and shifted her focus back to her potion.

"Why does it have to swirl?" Ron asked.

"So you don't confuse it with an ordinary galleon and try to pay for something with it," Hermione explained simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh…" he mumbled.

He stood there awkwardly as she poured all of her attention into her potion. "Hermione-"

"It will be fine, Ron. Can't you trust me?" she asked.

As he stared at her, he could see the tired and obviously upset look in her eye.

"... yeah, I can," he replied softly.

She looked slightly surprised but nodded before averting her gaze. "Good. Then, it's settled."

It was not really settled as the two were silent for several minutes neither moving.

"Are you going to come to bed soon or not? Cause if not, I'm gonna make myself a sandwich," Ron explained.

* * *

_Author's note: I couldn't figure out what I wanted Ron eating in the beginning, but I finally decided on Licorice Wands after re-watching A Very Potter Sequel and remembering Ron's love for Red Vines. Anyway, see you Tuesday. Have a good night everybody._


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's note : Hey guys. We're on Chapter 5 :0 (woah). Hope you all enjoy._

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Hermione stared at the manor. She may have called it magnificent if it were not for the fact that this specific house held such an awful memory.

Shuddering, she knocked on the door.

Although she expected to see Draco, it was Narcissa Malfoy who opened the door.

"Miss Granger," Narcissa said in a rather pleasant tone, "What a surprise."

"Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione greeted a little overwhelmed, "I'm just here to drop some things off."

"Oh no, no. You must come in really," Narcissa beckoned.

"I don't wish to impose," she explained even though that was not the true reason she did not wish to enter.

However, Narcissa grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her into the house. "We just redecorated."

The house that Hermione remembered as being so dimly lit was now incredibly bright. A new wallpaper adorned the old walls. The wallpaper was white with red roses that moved around and danced in the same way that photographs did.

As cheery as the house now appeared, it still managed to feel just as eerie as ever.

Hermione could see the room of her torture; a new chandelier hung from the ceiling of the room. It sent shivers down her spine. It took a large amount of willpower on her behalf to avert her eyes.

"It's lovely," she commended Narcissa.

"You think?" Narcissa asked, "It was beginning to feel a little lonely. I thought the roses would give it more of a homely touch."

"If I could just drop this off, I can get right out of your hair-" Hermione started wishing to leave.

"Granger," a voice interrupted.

Turning to the balcony, she could see Lucius staring down at her.

At a second glance, she realized she was mistaken. It was not Lucius at all. It was Draco.

The son mirrored the father. However, instead of wearing a fine suit, Draco was dressed in the same robes as from The White Wyvern.

His clothes were loose, and his hair was tousled as if he may have just awoken.

"I meant to greet you at the door. I'm sorry my mother beat me to it," he observed making his way down the steps.

"Apologizing for his own mother," Narcissa teased, "Draco, why don't you go back upstairs-"

"She knows mother. She's brewing the Wolfsbane potion for me," Draco interrupted.

Narcissa's eyes widened slightly taken aback as she stared at Hermione in surprise.

"Really?" she breathed.

"I have the draughts for you," Hermione said ignoring Narcissa.

"Oh!" Draco exclaimed, "Yes. Thank you. If you would follow me." He gestured to the staircase.

Although Hermione was serious about giving the Malfoy's a second chance, she was still by herself in the house of a family with a dangerous history. She gripped her handbag a little tighter just as a safety precaution.

Leaving Narcissa behind only to stare, the two climbed the steps one by one until they reached the second landing.

Draco opened a door and motioned for Hermione to enter. She entered the room with a curt smile before gasping in surprise.

The walls of the room were lined with bookcases filled to the brim with books. There were large rims and small rims and dull books and colorful books. Hermione looked up to see that the bookcases ascended to the heavens showing no signs of ending. In the air, many books flew flapping their covers like wings moving from one shelf to another.

It was almost as enchanting as the library at Hogwarts, however, nothing was quite as marvelous as the Hogwarts' library.

Hermione turned around in circles staring at the highest shelves before she bumped into a small desk. Her attention drifted to the rest of the room which was far quainter when not accounting the bookshelves.

Opposite the desk were two armchairs with a table in between them.

"The Malfoy library," Draco interrupted her thoughts, "Mostly here to look prestigious."

"Have you read any of them?" she inquired completely awestruck.

"Some… when they become relevant."

"Relevant?"

"Bit of charms… bit of defense…" Draco trailed off, "... bit on the moon…" He grew quiet shoving his thin and bony hands into his robe's pockets.

Hermione became solemn wishing she could say something of comfort. While a voice whispered in the back of her mind prompting her to ask the question of when and how, she silenced it.

Awkwardly, she traced circles on the small desk and shifted her gaze back to the books.

"If any interest you, you're allowed to borrow them," he encouraged.

Her entire demeanor changed, and a swift smile spread across her face. "Really?"

Draco shrugged. "I have no use for them. However, I doubt we own any that you haven't read yet."

"I don't know about that," she whispered entranced.

In the next moment, she reminded herself why she was there to begin with.

"Oh! The draughts!" she exclaimed fishing through her handbag.

"Yes, um…" Draco piped up before moving towards the small desk to clear some of its clutter.

Hermione pulled out the carton of vials and set it down on the desk.

Staring in awe, Draco lowered himself to be eye-level with the vials. "You really did get them all done," he mused.

"Well, I did tell you I would," Hermione mumbled.

"Right! I need to pay you," he realized searching the pockets of his robes.

Surprisingly, Hermione had actually forgotten she was getting paid to make these draughts. "Oh. You don't."

"I'll be just a moment. Go and… pick out some books while I'm gone," he suggested as he left the room.

She stared after him for a single second but immediately made her way to the bookcases without another thought. It had taken all of her strength to restrain herself from putting every book into her handbag while Draco was present. With him gone, however, she was free to scour the shelves for different kinds of books.

"I do hope you'll be keeping quiet, Miss Granger," a voice said behind her.

Turning around, Hermione could see Narcissa standing in the doorway. She looked colder.

"Keeping quiet?" Hermione repeated.

"About my son's condition," Narcissa explained unmoving.

"I was not planning-"

"I know that you are up for the position of Minister of Magic, and it would be a shame-"

"Are your threatening me?" Hermione interrupted quite astounded by Narcissa's boldness.

"My son-"

"I don't intend to spread word of Draco's condition. I'm helping him as a friend. I have nothing to gain out of telling the wizard community that he is a werewolf."

Hermione was firm with her words and returned Narcissa's cold stare with one just as cold. She was not about to be threatened or intimidated. She was a grown woman, not a child to be bossed around and controlled.

As Narcissa was caught off-guard, her expression softened, and she slowly unfolded her arms. "... good. It would have been a real shame-"

"Mother," Draco cut in.

She turned around to see her son standing behind her holding a small bag. "Draco-"

"I would thank you kindly to not harass Miss Granger," he spat before striding past her.

Submissively, Narcissa nodded although looking quite hurt. She took her leave and walked down the hall.

Hermione watched her until she was no longer within sight.

"I'm sorry for her," Draco apologized as he set the bag in Hermione's hand, "Twenty-one galleons. You can count them if you'd like."

Hermione looked down at the purse before turning her gaze back to him. "Draco, I-"

"Please. It's the least I can do," he insisted.

She nodded giving him a curt smile before placing the bag into her handbag. "Thank you."

"No, thank you for the draughts. I truly am sorry for my mother. You can apparate here in this room to avoid her. If you come at the same time as you did today, I can be here to meet you," he explained.

"Oh. Yes… thank you."

"Then, I shall be seeing you next week?"

"Certainly. And I should have the potion for you then."

"Thank you," Draco said with a rather large smile.

"I wish I could have it sooner-" Hermione began.

"No, no. You've done so much already. I'm truly grateful for everything."


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's note : Hello. Enjoy. Goodbye._

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Hermione stared intently at the potion when an arm wrapped around her from behind. She felt herself jump before the owner of the arm rested their head on her shoulder and let out a deep Ron-sounding sigh.

"'Mione, please just come back to bed," he mumbled sleepily.

"Ronald, I need the moonlight for this potion, or it won't be of any use to anyone," she replied firmly before picking up the cauldron to move it into the light.

He stood up and sleepily trudged after her. As she set the cauldron down on a table which was in the direct line of moonlight, Ron wrapped his arms back around her waist.

"... I wonder what it must feel like…" Hermione whispered staring through the window at the moon.

"Honestly, Hermione, I don't know why you care so much-" Ron grumbled.

"Don't you remember when Lupin forgot his potion? It was horrifying. He didn't know who we were- he about killed-…" she faltered unable to say the words.

The longer she thought about it, the more she wondered whether Narcissa or Lucius were safe. Draco would not be able to identify his own parents during his transformation. He would not be able to remember anything or anyone.

There were so many unanswered questions such as how long he had been a werewolf or where he spent his time while in his condition.

It had never occurred to her before, but she now had to ask where Lupin spent his time when he was without the potion. After Dumbledore had hired him, Snape was providing him with potions, and he would not have been a threat. However, she had no idea as to what he had done before his year teaching at Hogwarts or what he had done after.

Ron squeezed her a little tighter. "'Mione, you can't keep letting these things bother you. Lupin… Lupin is in a better place, and you're helping… Malfoy. You're taking care of the problem. Quit worrying." With that, he pressed a kiss into her neck.

Her eyes widened in surprise. He had not been so caring or reassuring in a long while. The only similar moments she could recall were in potions class when he had stood up for her against Snape or during the Battle of Hogwarts when he had suggested that the three save the house elves.

A soft smile passed her lips, and she leaned her head against his. "I need to finish this potion but then I'll join you back in bed."

"Good," he replied, "and I was hoping we might have a little fun."

"It's almost two in the morning, Ron," Hermione criticized.

"And it's Saturday," he reminded.

"And I need to drop the potion off at the Malfoy Manor."

"Do it later in the day."

"He'll be waiting for me at the same time as last week."

"I will make treacle tarts and have them ready for you when you get back."

Hermione became silent as she tended to her potion.

"'Mione?"

"Alright. But it better be the best treacle tart I've ever had in my life."

In the morning, Hermione brushed out the tangles in her hair. She wanted to look at least half-way decent. Although she could have put on a nicer shirt, her husband's sweater with its lovely R was far more comfortable.

Making her way into the kitchen, she picked up the potion which she had bottled up last night after it had finished brewing. Carefully, she placed it in her handbag before taking notice of Ron.

He had actually followed through on his promise. He was making treacle tarts right before her very eyes.

She hungrily watched as he rolled out the dough for the pastry crust.

"It'll be ready in about an hour," Ron explained interrupting her food-filled thoughts.

"Right," she replied simply nodding, "I'm going to Apparate to the house. I shouldn't take long."

Ron winced slightly. Without his shirt, she could easily see his splinched arm. It looked horrific, and she knew that the pain attached to that splinch was even more horrifying.

Although Ron had his licence for Apparition, he rarely ever used it. He would use the Floo Network or the Knight Bus but not Apparition if he could help it.

Her eyes were unwavering trained on the splinch.

Slowly, Ron looked down at his arm and back to her.

Hermione shook her head bringing herself back to reality. "... I'm sorry."

"You're alright," he reassured simply turning back to the tart.

The scar did not bother him. She had expected it to, but the physical manifestation of the scar was not something he was ashamed of. He was terrified of experiencing the pain related to it. That was the real underlying fear.

"I'll just drop it off, collect my pay, and be right back," Hermione explained.

"Your pay?"

"Oh! Yes!" she exclaimed opening her handbag and pulling out the pouch, "I'm actually getting paid to make these potions and draughts. I tried to refuse, but he wouldn't really let me."

It was obvious that the pouch piqued his curiosity as he slowly opened it. While he looked inside, she picked up her new carton of vials each filled with one of the three draughts and neatly placed it in the enchanted handbag.

Ron let out a low whistle. "You know what, 'Mione? I take it back. You can make as many draughts and potions as you'd like."

Hermione laughed but shook her head. "Really, Ron."

She envisioned the room and its walls lined with those precious books. In mere seconds as her determination grew and grew, she apparated next to one of the armchairs.

Beginning to lose her balance, Hermione fell back into the armchair. Although slightly surprised, she relaxed and looked around the room.

On the table, Draco was sprawled out snoring loudly. He looked weak and tired slumped over.

It was something of a sad sight to see him in.

Slowly, Hermione rose from the chair and approached the desk.

His long, blonde hair hung over his face limply. With great caution, she pushed his hair from his face. His mouth was stuck in a snarling position. His lips were curled, and his face harbored a dozen new scratches and lines.

As she removed her hand, the hair fell back over his face like a curtain.

Hermione opened her handbag and pulled out the new carton of vials as well as the potion.

Before she set it down, she noticed the first carton she had brought now with twenty-one empty vials. She smiled lightly happy that she could get it back. She had been unsure whether or not she would get the first carton back or have to keep on buying new cartons, but it was nice to know that cartons and vials would not be any unnecessary expense.

Carefully, Hermione switched out the old carton for the new one and delicately set the Wolfsbane potion next to it.

Although she could wait for him to wake up and take her pay, she decided it might be better to leave him to rest. However, Draco had other ideas.

In the next second, there was a soft groan.

Hermione looked up and found herself staring into a pair of grey eyes.

"Hermione?" He croaked in surprise as his eyes widened.

"Sorry. I was hoping just to pop in and pop out."

"No, no," he whispered as he tried to straighten up, "I'm glad I caught you before you left."

Although wincing, Draco opened his eyes to see the potion. His eyes widened, and he moved a shaky hand towards the potion and brought it closer towards him.

"The Wolfsbane potion," he breathed.

"It was a little hard, but nothing I couldn't manage," she explained.

He looked at it in awe unable to say anything in response.

A question in the back of her mind began to push pass her lips. "Did you sleep here last night?"

Looking up at her in surprise, Draco opened his mouth but merely shook his head. "N-… no…"

"Oh…" she whispered unsure what to say.

It was obvious that the question was sensitive, and she had overstepped her bounds.

"I… I slept in the dungeon… actually," he confessed in a tone lower than a whisper.

In a mixture of shock and horror, Hermione's eyes widened.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's note : Hey__ guys. I just wanted to thank all of you for everything. I'm having something of a hard time right now and some days I want to delete everything and just call in quits. But you guys just brighten my day everytime I get a notification that there is a new review or favorite or follow and that somebody is just enjoying my work. You people mean the world to me. I will be uploading on the fourth and if I can manage it, I do have a surprise for you all that same day. Anyways, hope you all are having a good day. Know that you are loved. Enjoy today's chapter._

* * *

**Chapter 7**

"... they… you… the- that room?" Hermione stuttered.

"The dungeon that my family locked up the Lovegood's, Potter, and Weasel? Yes, that one," Draco replied.

She felt herself flinch ever so slightly at Draco referring to her husband as weasel. "I-"

"It was made for me," he groaned as he stood up taking the potion bottle in his hand.

"... made for you?" she whispered in confusion.

"That summer- the one before our sixth year- they built the dungeon. They built it to keep me… safe, as they like to put it, during the summers."

"How long have you been a werewolf?" Hermione asked before clapping her hands over her mouth.

Draco looked just as surprised as herself. She had not meant to be quite so frank and ask the question, but it had just slipped out. It seemed like a lot of questions were slipping out.

"Well… after my father failed to retrieve the prophecy, the Dark Lor- You-Know-Who decided he needed to be taught a lesson. So, You-Know-Who requested Fenrir Greyback to… bestow the curse on myself. I suppose he figured my father might not slip up again if he understood just how dire the consequences might be," Draco explained.

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. "Draco… I'm so sorry-"

"It's alright," he cut her off, "It isn't your fault."

"I'm just… I'm just expressing sympathy…" she explained.

Nodding, Draco stared at the silver potion not daring to make eye contact with her.

"For that long?" she whispered.

"What?" he asked surprised.

"You've been a werewolf for that long?"

"Oh… yes, I have. Professor Snape brewed Wolfsbane for me up until his death so I… managed through my sixth and seventh year of Hogwarts."

"... I was sure that you were stressed out that year because of your assignment to kill Dumbledore… but that wasn't it, was it?"

"N-... no. I was worried and… and stressed about that…" he murmured.

Falling silent, she wondered how far she had overstepped in mentioning Dumbledore.

"... I'm sorry about how I treated you and your friends back at Hogwarts," Draco mumbled setting the potion back down.

"It's in the past-" Hermione began.

"No, no! It's- it's not. I did some horrifically awful things to you, Hermione Granger, and I'm… I'm truly sorry."

"And it's in the past," she reassured as she took both of his shaking hands into her own, "I forgive you."

Slowly, his eyes locked with hers, and she realized just how different of a man he now was. The once confident and arrogant Slytherin prat was now a broken down and damaged wizard, a hollow shell of a person.

Of course, Hermione was happy to see that her former school bully had disappeared, but she empathized for the sad and sickly man that now stood before her.

"... you aren't that person any longer," she pressed.

He shook his head in affirmation. A small smile spread on his thin lips but vanished quickly as if he was unwilling to permit himself even a second of happiness.

"I would hope not…"

"He'd be proud of you-"

Before she could continue, Draco ripped his hands out of her's and backed up like a scared animal. "You shouldn't say that. You don't know anything about the kind of person I am now."

Hermione let her hands fall to her sides and scanned the room around her after looking him up and down. "I know that you keep yourself locked up in this house… that you suffer through torment every week to the point you require draught for calmness and tranquility. But most importantly, I know you just asked for my forgiveness."

As he listened, Draco's face flushed pink, and he shoved his hands deep down into his robes, staring at his feet like a child.

"... it takes a strong man to ask for forgiveness and admit his faults," she finished.

He scoffed quietly, but she could see a rather pleased smile on his downcast face.

"You need to be payed," he said more to the room than to her in particular.

"Draco, that's really unnecessary-"

"Hermione," he interrupted, "it puts my mind at ease when I am able to compensate for your hard work."

She was almost a little surprised to hear him refer to her by her first name. He had used it when he had awoken but that was during a state of shock and momentary gathering of thoughts. However, now he used that name fully aware of himself.

"Then, please just consider paying me a little less than whatever you had in mind?" She pleaded.

"I'll do no such thing." A large smile was now displayed across his gaunt face. He looked much more confident as he stood a little taller than usual.

He walked behind his desk and opened one of the drawers. "I was a little more prepared this time around. Thought I should keep some money in the desk so I didn't have to run across the manor to fetch your galleons."

"Very brilliant of you," Hermione commended with a small laugh.

As he looked up at her, Draco's gaze drifted to her chest, and his smile slowly vanished. "So… what might you be doing with a Weasley shirt?"

Shifting her attention, Hermione looked down at the sweater with the big capital R plastered on it. "Oh! Oh. I wear a lot of tight and formal clothing for my job at the Ministry so I was wanting to wear something a little more comfortable." As she spoke, her face felt more and more hot. She knew she must have gone through several shades of red at this point.

"And the Weasel's shirt was your best option?"

She frowned. "Yes actually. My own sweater was being washed, and I do quite love the material that my mother-in-law knits with so I decided my husband's sweater was the next best thing."

A degree of surprise swept over Draco's face. "Husband?"

"... yes," Hermione replied softly. She had not exactly expected him to be quite so shocked. She had expected Draco to compose himself and perhaps refer to Ron by his own name or at least not by the horrifying nickname of 'Weasel,' but she had not been betting on his bewilderment.

"You married that bloke?" Draco gasped straightening up.

In annoyance, Hermione scrunched up her face. "I would appreciate if you would not call him a bloke."

Draco opened his mouth but quickly closed it as his glare softened. "I suppose you're Mrs. Weasley then, hmm?" He sighed as he sat down in the desk's chair.

"Actually, I'm just Ms. Granger… I didn't really want to give up my last name."

A brief smile passed his face, and he nodded happily before the smile dropped. "Well," he grunted as he set a small pouch on the desk, "Twenty galleons for the Wolfsbane potion, and twenty-one for the draughts."

"Your family will go bankrupt if you keep insisting to pay me at this high of a rate."

"Please. I doubt you'll even make a dent. None of the Malfoy's work. It's a fortune passed down for generations."

Hermione picked up the pouch but then looked up at Draco in surprise. "None of you work?"

"You really think anyone would hire a Malfoy?" Draco spat in disgust. He seemed upset to even bear the name now.

Years ago, he had been so proud, flaunting his last name around as if people might bow down and kiss his feet when they realized his blood status. However, Hermione could now see his utter distaste for the name.

"... I'm sorry," she apologized.

He shrugged. "Our own fault thinking anything good might come from being death eaters."

"But you weren't… neither was your mother…"

"We aided him. We just didn't take the mark."

For some reason, Draco felt colder and almost angrier.

"You've changed a lot since then. You should give yourself some credit," Hermione instructed.

Slowly, Draco rose from his seat. A small smile threatened to stir across his face as his grey eyes twinkled almost happily. "Would you like to stay for tea?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Ron is making some treacle tart."

Draco nodded. "I do hope it's good."

"So do I. Thank you for the pay. I do hope the potion will work."

"We will see next moon."

Hermione smiled before envisioning her home with Ron and the kitchen which he had been cooking in. In the next moment, she had popped into the kitchen which smelled delightful.

"I hope that's done because I'm starving," she groaned.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's note : _Happy 4th everybody! Enjoy

* * *

**Chapter 8**

"... Ron?" Ron heard Hermione call out.

He quivered in fear unable to move. His wand was at the ready, but he could not find the voice to utter any incantation.

"Ronald-" Hermione started as she entered the room, "... Ron, what-?

Her eyes slowly traveled from him to what he was staring at.

"A bloody spider, Ronald! Really?" She yelled, "Accio teacup. Accio paper."

A teacup and piece of paper whizzed into the room. Skillfully, Hermione took hold of both and covered the spider with the tea cup before sliding the paper underneath the cup. She walked to the window and set the spider out on the window sill.

"You're such a child," she chastised as he caught his breath.

"It was huge," he gasped.

"I understand you're terrified of spiders, but honestly, Ron, I don't understand why you can't deal with them yourself."

"Because I have you to deal with them for me," he explained.

She glared. Her eyebrows knitted together almost angrily.

"... and in return, I make you tarts," Ron finished.

For a few small moments, she simply glared at him before she nodded. "I will accept that answer."

They sat down together at the table both eating a slice of tart. Ron swore he had never seen her quite so happy as she was now.

"How did dropping off the potion for the prat go?" he inquired.

Hermione looked up from her tart and furrowed her brows in thought. "I'd appreciate if you showed him some respect."

"As if he'd ever do the same for me-"

"No, because neither of you will quit!" She slapped her fork down on the plate. "You're just as arrogant as he is."

Ron looked taken aback. "I'm nothing like that pompous-"

"Then let down your pride and don't refer to him by any name that you wouldn't dare use to refer to any of our friends."

Leaning back, Ron groaned and rested his head on the back of his chair.

"Really, Ronald," she whispered before taking another bite of her tart, "I don't see why you or anyone else for the matter can't just let go of the past and move forward."

Grunting, Ron stood up and picked up his plate. "Maybe the Slytherins should move on since no one harmed them… but they harmed a lot of people, 'Mione…"

Although his back was turned to her, he knew she recognized his point. She had fallen silent. Not a single noise inhabited their tiny home.

"'Mione-"

"I'm going to Flourish and Blotts," she interrupted as she stood up.

"I'll go with you-"

"No, I'll go alone."

As he turned around, he watched her stand up and leave quickly. Her mussy, brown hair obscured her face, but he could picture just how upset she was.

However, even if it did upset her, he would stand by his word. Internally, he hoped that Draco would not be stupid enough to try anything with Hermione, but he also wanted Draco to show his true colors and prove him right that Slytherins were incapable of change.

Sighing, Ron pulled a few select books from the bookshelf and began to strategically place them around the house. One on the kitchen table, one on the couch, one on the floor in the front hall.

Usually when Hermione was mad, she would leave the house only to storm back in. Over the years, Ron had learned that if he managed to leave out a few of her favorite books, her attention would be diverted, and she would sit down to read for a while until she forgot her grievances.

Ron slipped into the bedroom and groaned as he sat down and leaned against the bed frame.

"Ronald Weasley-" a voice yelled as the front door opened, "You- oh."

Hermione's screeching voice lowered to a soft whisper as she had obviously found one of the books. Ron assumed it was probably Hogwarts: A History.

Ron reached for his dirty shirt which was lying on the floor. He pulled it over his head and took his wand out of the shirt's front pocket.

He did not intend to hex her but in the case she intended to, he was ready to incant Protego and stop her killing curse from reaching him.

Slowly, the door opened. Hermione's face was obscured by a large book. He could easily see that she was in fact reading Hogwarts: A History.

She sat down next to Ron and leaned her head on his shoulder. In relief, he let out a soft exhale and lowered his wand.

After a few minutes, Hermione pulled her head out of the book. "Why does this feel familiar?"

"Because we do this once a month: we argue, you leave, I get you a book."

They were silent. Hermione was still resting her head on his shoulder, and now he was resting his head on her's.

"Your tart was good," she finally spoke.

Smiling, Ron took her hand in his. "Let's get you to Flourish and Blotts."

Hours later, he woke up in a cold sweat being shaken by Hermione.

"Ron! Ronald-!"

"I'm up! I'm up!" He screamed back trying to be heard over her screeching.

He sat up in bed struggling to catch his breath.

Only inches from his face, Hermione was holding her wand which emitted a bright light from the end.

"Would you put the light out?" Ron pleaded as he shielded his eyes.

"Nox," Hermione quickly uttered before setting down her wand and bringing her hands to his face, "What happened? What were you dreaming about?"

"I-..." He started. Different scenes flashed before his eyes as he tried to piece the nightmare back together. "I don't-"

In the distance, he could hear Hermione screaming from somewhere far away in the dream.

"Ron," she whispered.

Her face looked slightly concerned, but a different face flashed before his eyes as he continued to focus on the now long gone dream.

Her hair was drenched, and she was wet. She looked terrified.

"What happened?" Hermione repeated.

The entire nightmare had now faded from his memory and all he could see was the dark room around him and his wife with her large tangled, messy hair sticking out on all ends from sleeping weird.

"I don't… I don't remember…" he faltered.

Slowly, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "It was just a bad dream. It wasn't real, Ron. It wasn't real."

"It wasn't-... it…"

"Shush," she murmured as she pulled back and lightly touched his hair.

"It felt so real…" he whispered in disbelief.

Crookshanks jumped up on the bed and began to circle around the comforter.

"Get off!" Ron yelled picking up the cat and flinging it off the bed.

"Ronald!" Hermione protested.

"Hermione," he interrupted taking her arms into his hands, "I have no idea why I am so shaken up, but that is no excuse for that bloody cat to jump into my bed and spread its disgusting cat hairs all over this bed."

Hermione's eyes widened a little in surprise, but she nodded. "... alright. What… what do you want me to do for you? What's going to calm you down?"

Ron took in several long, deep breaths. After what felt like hours, he let go of her arms, and his hands fell limply to his sides.

The dream had felt so real and even though he could no longer grasp at any real details of it, he felt like it was a warning. It was a premonition.

"I think I just need something to eat…"


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's note : _I hope you people enjoy this (i'm gonna go and study for the next fourteen hours for a Biology Test ;-;). Have a good night!

* * *

**Chapter 9**

As the nightmares progressed, Hermione watched as she started making extra batches of the Draught of Peace, Calming Draught, and Sleeping Draught.

The days turned into weeks, and the same nightmare seemed to be plaguing Ron to no end. He would yell, and she would wake him up only for him to deny that anything was wrong to begin with.

"Maybe… you should consider going to a Seer-" she had suggested.

"I'm not going to a Seer," he had growled in response, "They aren't actually real. They just wave their arms around and scream random gibberish."

"I'll admit that Professor Trelawney was…" she had started but could not find the power to finish, "Ron, I'm just worried."

"They're just bad dreams."

Although Hermione had reached out to Harry for help, Harry was torn.

"You're talking to the Master of Bad Dreams, Hermione. I saw my father-in-law getting attacked by Nagini… and I was Nagini!" Harry had yelled, "I don't know. Ron's usually a good judge, and I think he would know if something was actually wrong, but he's also… stubborn at times."

"I'm just asking you to keep an eye on him, especially when I can't."

"... alright, I will."

The next Saturday came abruptly. Hermione dropped off the draughts but did not bother to stay for more than a second. Lucky for her, Draco was not in the room awaiting her arrival.

She disapparated immediately.

It was not that she did not want to see or speak with Draco. She was just so busy. Her upcoming interview for the position of Minister of Magic was fast approaching.

She was constantly running through her notecards preparing for every possible contingency.

"'Ms. Hermione Granger, the most wonderful and amazing witch of all the ages-'" Ron began.

"Ron, as much as I love you, please just stick to what it says on the card," Hermione pleaded.

"'Alright, alright, fine. Ms. Hermione Granger, why should the Ministry consider you for the position of Minister?'"

"'I think I should be considered for the position because I want to improve the lives of all witches and wizards,'" she recited.

"... 'and?'" he prompted.

"I-" Hermione racked her brain at a loss of words, "... I don't…"

"'And help find more ways for Muggleborns to feel included in the wizarding world.'"

"... alright," Hermione whispered, "Run me through it again."

"Hermione," Ron groaned setting down the notecards, "You don't even want this job."

That was true. She did not really. Kingsley Shacklebolt had told her that she would be an excellent candidate especially since he was considering retiring. She had urged him to reconsider, but he was determined that he should set an interview up for her.

"You don't want it?" Ginny asked almost astounded.

"Kingsley thinks it would be a good fit for me-" Hermione started.

"But you don't want it," Harry repeated.

Hermione opened her mouth before clamping it shut.

As she searched for the right excuse, Teddy clambered into Ron's lap, holding a book in his hands.

Ron took the book into his hands only for his eyes to widen in surprise. "He found one of your books, 'Mione."

Harry leaned over to his right to see what book Teddy had picked. "The Tales of Beedle the Bard. I'm surprised you even held on to this one, Hermione."

"Of course I held on to the book. Dumbledore left it for me." She folded her arms indignantly and sat down next to Ginny on the couch.

Ginny bounced James a little faster. It was not a big change in movement, but Hermione had caught it.

Slowly, Ron began to open the book.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled, "Don't read him that book."

"Why not? Our mum read it to us all the time," he argued motioning to Ginny.

"Some of those stories are a little dark," Harry murmured.

With a sly smile, Ron leaned back in his chair. "Tell me not to read it, 'Mione."

Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion. "What?"

"Stand up for yourself and tell me not to read it."

"Ron, I'm not going to do that."

"Then, I'm going to read it to him."

Ginny pursed her lips. "That isn't really your call, Ron. In the end, it's up to Harry and me-"

"I'm trying to teach my wife not to be a pushover. Hush, Ginny," Ron replied.

Teddy, who had begun to grow tired, started to stare at his hands as he made them webbed together. Proudly, he showed off his now webbed hands to Harry.

Harry smiled before poking Teddy on the nose.

"I'm going to start reading to him," Ron threatened.

"I don't think he really cares," Harry mumbled as Teddy continued to play with his metamorphmagus abilities.

In response, Teddy changed his nose to that of a pig's. "Oink," he said before bursting into a fit of giggles.

"I will do it, Hermione," Ron continued not caring that he was being ignored.

"Ronald, this is ridiculous. Could you just read the notecards?"

"'There were once three brothers,'" he started.

Sighing, Hermione stood up and took the notecards from him before handing them over to Harry. "Just read them," she begged.

Harry looked down at the notecards. "'I would want to-' that's the wrong side of the card," he mumbled awkwardly, "'What do you want to get out of this job?'"

"'I would want to get a sense of purpose that I am making a difference-'"

"'And Death spoke to them-'" Ron read.

"Alright, Ronald!" Hermione screamed, "Don't read the book."

She snatched it from his hands and glared down at him.

Ronald stared up at her in surprise before a mischievous smile crossed his face.

"Happy?" she inquired.

"Yes. Just a little more determined, and I think you should be set for Monday," he replied.

"Set? Set for what?"

"For telling Kingsley that you don't want to be Minister."

Hermione looked slightly taken aback before staring down at the book in her hand. "Ron-"

"You're going in and telling him that you are perfectly happy with your job," he explained before standing up and making his way into the kitchen.

Harry looked between her and Ron. "Do you want me to keep reading the notecards or-"

"Harry, shut up," Ginny hissed.

"Ron-" Hermione began.

"Do you want the job?" he asked.

She stared at him before opening her mouth, but she found herself speechless.

"Do you want the job, Hermione Granger," he repeated.

Slowly, she shook her head. "I don't."

"Great!" Ron yelled throwing his hands in the air, "Sounds like a reason to toast. Butterbeer for everyone."

"Butterbeer!" Teddy yelled excitedly.

Apprehensively, Harry turned to Ginny. "Do I put the notecards down or should I just-"

"Potter, you're hopeless," Ginny sighed.


End file.
